Consequences Of Desire
by Phanstarlight
Summary: Being the youngest was never easy, Pestilence knew that very well. But what happens when enough is enough? He hears of a story about the Darkness and becomes captivated by an idea. An idea that will very quickly turn into a race against himself, time, and the whole of Creation. REUPLOAD.
1. Chapter 1

**Credit to the wonderful PrawnNetwork for this absolutely brilliant prompt. I hope you and many others will enjoy what I have made of it. Sadly, I own no rights to anything to do with Supernatural.**

Being the youngest was never easy. Pestilence was constantly looked down on by the others. Maybe it was because he was tied so completely to humanity. Or maybe it was because no matter what he did, the humans almost always seemed to find a way to overcome him. But that was hardly his fault! No matter what new things he produced, the humans would eventually find a way to at least slow its effects down, if not eradicate it completely. This made him weak according to his brothers. Famine always teased him about his lack of control and whenever they're even near each other, War laughs at his inexperience. Which angered Pestilence to no end because that was entirely out of his hands. Yes, he was the youngest so he had spent less time in existence than the other three but that didn't mean he had no experience. At almost every chance he had, he would constantly question his eldest brother Death about anything he could; from humanity to God and everything in between. He knew it probably irritated his brother but he just couldn't seem to stop. He was so curious about Creation and he wanted to learn everything he possibly could. Of course, War and Famine teased him about this too but Pestilence had come to the realisation that maybe he would never convince them he was just as worthy as them, so he soon gave in. Death, on the other hand, was an entirely different case. His eldest brother was the wisest and most powerful of them all, even War agreed to that. Pestilence wanted to prove to him that he was capable too because, beyond Death, there was no one. His only company were the flies and bacteria that clung themselves to him.

* * *

Pestilence was sat alone, studying the humans' reaction to one of his latest diseases. They flew around him, their strange technology flying past as they tried to treat one patient after another. At least, he thought he was alone. The sound of a scuffing shoe that sounded different to human footfalls alerted him to someone else's presence. He quickly turned around to see two demons standing only a few meters away from him. They didn't seem to notice him, but Pestilence became curious. Carefully, he blocked out all noise of the humans until he could focus fully on the voices of the demons.

"-could be dangerous"

"Oh come on! We both know it's just a myth. Plus, if it was real then not even the 'almighty' God could trap it away. I mean, nothing could contain so much power"

"But it has the potential to be true..."

"And what do you propose we do? 'Oh hey, Boss! The Darkness, yeah the all-powerful myth that God fought away before creating anything, we think it's real' I'm sure that would go down real well"

"You know that's not what I meant. But, just think about it for a moment. If we could capture it, we would become the most powerful creatures in the universe. We could do anything; destroy everything with a click of our fingers"

Pestilence slowly drifted out of their conversation and into his own thoughts. He had heard of the Darkness, of course. It had always been a story, nothing more. But if it really was real, maybe it could help him. Its power with his ideas; together they could create the most deadly disease in all of Creation. The humans would never be able to find a way around it. Finally, he would get the respect he deserved! Pestilence curled his fingers and grinned to himself as he hurriedly stood and left the hospital, being careful to not twist his ring out of habit. No one had ever seen the Darkness and there was no real proof that it really did exist. But if anyone would find it, Pestilence was now determined it would be him.

He had nothing left to lose.


	2. Chapter 2

About a week had passed since the idea of seeking out the Darkness had begun in Pestilence's mind, and it was only growing bigger. He had searched out every single thing he could about the Darkness, desperate to try and gain any information he could about it. It was more powerful than anything he had ever known before, but for some reason that didn't scare him as much as he knew it should. He had come to realise quite quickly that no matter what he did, there was no way he would be able to bring the Darkness back into the world. It was chained by the Mark of Cain and Pestilence knew he would never be able to break that lock. But then something else had occurred to him. Maybe he didn't need to set the Darkness free. Maybe all he needed was a way of communicating with it. A being of such immense power would surely be able to communicate with him in some way. And so his search continued. But unbeknownst to him, his actions were not going unnoticed. Death was beginning to grow suspicious of his younger brother. Pestilence rarely kept anything from him, so his brother's withdrawals from him instantly worried Death. At first, he simply thought he was working on some new disease. But his actions seemed different to anything Death had seen from him before. If Death didn't know better, he would say Pestilence was hiding something from him...

* * *

Pestilence's whole body ached from being sat in the same position for the past few hours. But just as he stretched his arm, caught the side of some parchment and pushed it over. Underneath was a book Pestilence had not come across yet. Curiosity overtaking pain, he snatched up the book and open up the pages. And there it was, right in front of him. There was the ritual he needed, staring up at him in faded ink. For a moment he simply stared, overwhelmed by the fact that he had just found what he had spent all this time looking for. Then he stood up so quickly that his chair fell down behind him and he had to steady himself against his desk before getting a little head rush. He scrawled down a list of every ingredient he needed then began rampaging through his cupboards, all previous thoughts of trying to keep the place clean thrown into the wind. After hours of searching, he finally had everything he needed; which surprised him quite a lot. Everything the ritual required was already in his possession, as though the spell had been made just for him... Pestilence quickly shook that thought out of his head. It was just a lucky coincidence, nothing more.

Finally, he had everything ready. All he had left to do was add the final ingredient and the ritual would be complete. However, as he raised his hand a sudden feeling of dread washed over him. He had no idea why; he knew exactly what he was doing and he had followed every instruction perfectly. Nevertheless, something still didn't seem right. He raised his hand once more and brushed his feelings off as simple nerves- he was about to talk with the oldest and most powerful creature ever known after all. But just as the powder fell from his fingertips, a flash of black appeared before his eyes. It was dark, cold, and pure. It held a hidden warning that was older and darker than anything Pestilence had ever seen before. But that image almost instantly left his mind as the bowl in front of him burst into flames. He jumped back a little, surprised at what was happening. Thick, black smoke spiralled up from the iron bowl and Pestilence took a further step back. Slowly, the smoke began to form the shape of a person; a woman. The flames all but faded to nothing and standing in front of Pestilence was a young woman, dressed all in black. Her hair was curled and fell gently on her shoulders. But something seemed a little off about her appearance. Her image seemed washed, as though he was looking at an old photograph.

"Where am I?" Her voice was silky and smooth and for a moment Pestilence simple stood there, frozen.

"I have come to ask for your help" Pestilence stepped out of the shadows so she could see him properly and her eyes seemed to sparkle with a dark sense of glee.

"Oh, it's been too long since I have heard the voice of anyone but myself"

"What should I call you?" Pestilence ventured cautiously.

"Amara... you may call me Amara. And who are you?"

"I am Pestilence"

When she made no sign of saying anything more, Pestilence decided to tell her why he needed her.

"Amara, I have called upon you in hope of an alliance"

"What makes you think I would side with someone such as yourself?"

"I want to create a new disease. One that will tear through the human race. One that they will never be able to conquer. It's time I get the respect I deserve"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm. What makes you think I can help you?" A slow smile was spreading along her lips, but it held an icy quality about it.

"You are the most powerful creature ever known. Your power combined with my ideas could create something more devastating than anything either of us could hope to achieve alone"

"I will gladly help you create such a weapon"

Pestilence faltered for a moment. Was that it? Was that all he needed to say to convince her?

"But be warned my dear Pestilence, my assistance comes with a very high price. Make sure you are able to pay it"

Suddenly, black smoke burst out from behind her and wrapped itself tightly around her body. Just as Amara dissolved into nothing, Pestilence saw a smile on her lips. But he also saw a cold, deep malice inside her eyes. An evil look that would forever be imprinted in his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

If Death hadn't been suspicious of his youngest brother's withdrawals from him several weeks ago, he was definitely suspicious now. Ever since Pestilence had been Created and brought to Death's lap, he had always been the most dependent. Famine had been on a similar level to Death a lot of the time and War had always sought independence. But Pestilence had relied on Death for almost everything. From when he was very young and still trying to figure out his purpose right up to now. But Pestilence had never hidden anything from Death. It wasn't that didn't have his own secrets- which Death was certain he did- or that he was scared to hide anything. He just never wanted to. All of this lead Death's mind to go beyond the borders of worry and into the realm of fear at Pestilence's lack of presence around him recently. So, of course, he could not sit back idly and wait for his brother to confess to him what was going on; Death knew it was far too late for that now. So, he took the matter into his own hands. As much as he did not want to, Death realised that the only way to find out what was wrong was to catch Pestilence red-handed doing... well, whatever it was he was doing.

Over the following months, Death had been seeking the truth of Pestilence's absence. Pestilence knew nothing of this but slowly Death was picking up the accidental hints and clues he had unwittingly left in his wake. Death had yet to come to a final conclusion, but with every new thing he discovered the truth was becoming clearer; a truth that he was finding even harder to deny with each step, no matter how much he did not want to believe it.

Finally, after 4 whole months, Death decided he could no longer sneak behind his brother's back. He had to find out the truth from Pestilence's lips. And if it was the truth Death so feared it was, he must put a stop to it before it got too out of hand...

* * *

Now Pestilence had made the initial link with Amara, communicating with her became much easier. But still she remained just out of true reach. At first, she had seemed resentful that he couldn't set her completely free, but once Pestilence began explaining his plans to her in more detail she became more and more enthusiastic to help him. Her nearly childish glee at his ideas should have seemed strange but Pestilence blew it off- something he would greatly regret in the not too distant future. The two of them had fallen into a routine in which Pestilence would share an idea with Amara, she would suggest ways in which it could be achieved or how it could be improved and then she would disappear, giving Pestilence time to work. Soon, Pestilence began hitting problems in his plans. But Amara would fix them every time with an almost God-like ease. A slow, dark joy spread itself through Pestilence every time he saw Amara; she was the shielding shadow of night that hid his actions from those around him as they prepared to unleash the wonderful creation that would grant Pestilence the respect and love he had always deserved. The plans he had held for so long were finally coming to be. But during one of their talks, something happened that almost ruined everything.

"Hush" Pestilence whispered, turning his head to the door.

"How dare you dismiss me!" Amara's eyes grew dark with anger, but then she also heard what had hit Pestilence's ear just moments before.

"Someone's coming! You must leave, right now" Pestilence's eyes grew wide with fear as he recognised the sound of the footfalls approaching them; it was Death. Amara glared at the door for a second before disappearing into a cloud of deep, black smoke which slowly dispersed into the air. Pestilence scrambled over to his desk, stuffed as many of his notes as he could into the draw and sat down just as the door creaked open.

"Pestilence?"

"Hm?" Pestilence turned to see his eldest brother standing in the doorway, an unreadable look on his face.

"It's been a while since we last spoke" Death did not move from where he stood and Pestilence was most relieved.

"I've been busy"

"I can tell, I haven't seen you in months. Are you quite alright?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" Pestilence hoped the smile on his face didn't look overly forced.

"Just looking out for you. Well, I guess I will leave you to your work" Death swivelled on his heels and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him. For a moment a wave of guilt loomed over Pestilence's head from hiding so much from his brother and he even considered running after him. But quickly it was overtaken by determination as his mind returned to his end goal. He had no choice but to hide from Death, for he knew his brother would only try and stop him. But he knew what he was doing and he could not back down now.

Little did he know of the great danger that waited just around the corner...


	4. Chapter 4

Pestilence was beginning to worry. Something about Amara seemed to be changing. They were almost ready to release the disease; a few last changes were all that was needed before it would be complete. But something wasn't right. Everything had seemed too easy. Amara was a huge force and more powerful than anything Pestilence had ever known, but she was almost _too_ powerful. She fixed any problem which such ease and the entire process had just seemed far too simple. By Pestilence's original calculations, they should still have another few months before the disease would be anywhere near ready but here he was, making the final preparations. So, after much anxious thought, he decided to call upon Amara and ask her how she had done everything so quickly. He knew being upfront ran the risk of upsetting her but for some strange and slightly twisted reason, he had grown to trust her. She wanted this almost as much as he did and they both knew they needed to work together to get what they wanted. So he quickly performed the re-summoning ritual and once again Amara appeared before him in a cloud of deep, black smoke.

"Is it finished?" she asked just a little too eagerly.

"Not quite"

"Then why have you summoned me?"

"I, um... well, you see... the thing is"

"Spit it out!" Amara's voice rose in volume and Pestilence flinched a little. He knew he was already stepping on dangerous ground.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure we really are ready to do this"

"Of course we are" Amara's vocal defences were shooting up around all her and Pestilence's heart began to pound in his chest.

"I'm just stunned that we've managed to do it so quickly. By my calculations, we should still be months away"

"You dare doubt my power?" Amara roared. Pestilence tried to splutter out some form of apology but Amara's mind was already made up. Her eyes grew dark and smoke seemed to filter out from her black dress, slowly filling the room.

"I'll show you the true extent of my power, you worthless Horseman!"

Pestilence's hand shot up to his throat as the smoke in the room began to drown out the oxygen. His vision clouded and he fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. The smoke curled around him, pulling at his body and squeezing the air out of him. In desperation, he called out for his eldest brother but nothing more than a chocked groan came from his lips. His head pounded and his chest burned.

But then all of a sudden, it was gone. The smoke cleared and Pestilence looked up to see that Amara was nowhere in sight. Pain shuddered through his body and for a while he was motionless; crouched on the floor, rapidly sucking in oxygen and adjusting his eyes back to the light. Once he felt like he wasn't about to collapse, his eyes found the slip of parchment that was sat in the empty bowl Pestilence had used to summon Amara. Curious, he crawled over to the bowl and picked the note up. On it was a single sentence, written in beautiful calligraphy.

 _You should not have doubted me._

Pestilence stared at the words. He tried to reassure himself that it was fine; everything would still go how he had wanted it to go. He was so close, nothing to stop him now. But somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, a truly dark fear began to fester. A fear that would soon be recognised.

* * *

Everything was completely normal at first. Nothing seemed to be wrong with the world. Pestilence couldn't make contact with Amara but that didn't worry him too much. After what had happened a few days previous, he was glad she hadn't returned just to blast him into oblivion. So, he continued his work as usual. That was his first mistake.

After a few hours of pouring away at his notes, he sat up and stretched a little. That's when he noticed the smell. It was the smell of disease, Pestilence had no doubt about that. But it was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Quickly he looked out of his window and he almost gasped at the sight before him. Humans were surrounded by his disease- the one he and Amara had created together. He transported himself to the hospital he was at when the whole idea had first come to him and his mouth spread into a toothy grin. All around him the humans were running about with their silly little machines, their small minds frantic as they tried to figure out what was happening. He stared in complete disbelief as they coughed, sneezed, gasped, and stumbled as their veins filled with illness. But then his head tilted to the side in confusion. How had the disease gotten out? Was this Amara's way of apologizing? Had it been an accident? Was it even truly ready yet? These questions swam viciously in Pestilence's head as he made his way back to his study. Frantically, he pulled out every note he had ever made on the disease, desperate to know how it could have gotten out into the world and what would happen if it wasn't ready yet. But even after hours of reading all of his work, he still had no idea about the answers to the questions he faced. But just when he was beginning to think there was nothing to worry about, Death burst into his room.

"What have you done?" Death stood in the doorway, his hands shaking and his eyes held an odd emotion that he had never seen before in his brother. Pestilence had no idea what to do. Had his brother finally found out about what he had been doing with Amara? Had Amara told him? Was that what she meant when she warned him about angering her?

"Pestilence! Tell me what you have done" Death's voice was low and quiet and Pestilence froze. He had never heard such anger in his brother's voice before.

"I haven't-" Pestilence tried to explain but Death cut him off.

"Don't you dare tell me you have done nothing! What is going on out there? What have you created?"

"It was just a new disease. It shouldn't be ready yet. I don't know how it got out" Pestilence silently reassured himself that he wasn't lying to his brother. He was just twisting the truth quite a bit.

"Do you have any idea what you've created? Almost the entire planet has become infected with this thing in a matter of hours and from how fast it's traveled and spread they should all be dead by now. But I have not had to claim a single person's soul. Not one. They're trapped in a never ending agony. I knew you were trying to create something new but I never thought you could be this... cruel"

And then it clicked. Pestilence realised what seemed so strange about his brother as that last word rolled form his lips. Death was scared. He was scared of what his brother had done and what he could be becoming. Once Death saw that Pestilence still had nothing to say he turned and left, slamming the door just a little too loudly behind him. Pestilence stood motionless, staring at the door. His eyes grew wide as his brother's words played over in his head and suddenly his body sprang into frantic action. He desperately grabbed everything he needed from his shelves and performed the re-summoning ritual. But nothing happened; Amara was nowhere to be seen. So he tried again and again but still there was nothing. Finally Pestilence collapsed down into his chair and ran his hand through his hair. He tried to calm himself and convince himself that it was all fine. Amara would appear eventually and they would talk about what was going on. It would all be okay...


	5. Chapter 5

All it took was one look in Death's eyes for Pestilence to realise that something was very wrong. His eldest brother had burst into his room just like he had done a few days previous but something was different about his entire aura this time. His face seemed pale, his lips were taught in a thin line and his fists were clenched until his knuckles turned white. He stared at Pestilence in a similar way to how he had last time but not quite the same; Death wasn't scared _of_ his brother, he was scared _for_ him.

"What is it?" Pestilence stood and walked over to his brother who refused to move from the doorway.

"Brother... what have you done?"

Pestilence bit his lip and turned his gaze to the floor. He hated hiding things from his brother but he knew it would be much worse if he told him the truth. Death shook his head in despair when Pestilence would not answer him.

"Well, whatever it is you have done you must reverse it quickly"

"What?" Pestilence's eyes shot up to stare at Death. Was it really that bad?

"Crowley turned up wanting your head on a stick. I managed to stop him from getting to you this time, but next time I may not be so lucky"

"What did he want with me?"

"It's the demons... they're falling ill. All of them. The exact same disease the humans are suffering from. I've heard distant rumours that it's even the same with the angels too"

"What? But demons and angels can't get ill. They were never designed that way" Pestilence stood suddenly but then found he had no idea what to do.

"I know, that's why you must stop whatever madness you have created"

"How did this happen?" Pestilence muttered to himself, making sure to turn away from Death to hide his uncertainty. He pretended to organise through some notes but Death seemed to notice his unease.

"You do know how to stop it, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Pestilence said just a little too quickly, causing Death to raise an eyebrow in scepticism. Once Death realised that Pestilence wasn't going to tell him what was really going on anytime soon he sighed before quietly leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind him. As soon as the door was shut Pestilence grabbed out the bowl from where he had hidden it in one of the highest cupboards in the room and began the ritual to summon Amara. At first, he tried the re-summoning ritual but nothing happened. So he resorted to starting it all again and began the long process of the original ritual he had used to contact Amara that very first time. Several hours later, he lit the flame and dropped it into the pile of ingredients in the bowl. He quickly stumbled back, attempted to shield his face and braced himself for the great burst of black smoke. But after several moments of silence, he lowered his hands. The flame burned through the ingredients but no spiral of smoke came from it. Pestilence snatched up the parchment with the instructions on and frantically began to read through them, but he found no error in what he had done. Everything had been put together exactly as it was written but nothing was happening. Pestilence threw the parchment down on the table and growled low in his throat. His fists clenched by his sides before he slammed them down on the table.

"What have you done?" Pestilence tilted his head back and yelled up at the ceiling, hoping that maybe Amara could hear him.

"We had an agreement! Is this what you wanted all along? Or is it some kind of twisted revenge for what I said to you by turning my own idea against me? If you're this powerful they why did you even need me in the first place? What do you want from me?"

Pestilence collapsed back in his chair and held his head in his hands. He knew that there was nothing he could do until Amara replied to him and told him exactly what was going on around them. But he couldn't simply sit back and watch the world be destroyed either. The precious idea that he had once held so highly in his mind was now tearing through not only Earth but Heaven and Hell too. And everyone thought it was his doing. In truth, part of it was but he had never dreamt of it going this far; he was the Creator of Disease, not the Creator of Chaos. Surely Death knew that? His brother must know he would never be able to bring such evil into existence on his own...


	6. Chapter 6

Pestilence thought the King Of Hell wanting his dead body laid out in front of him was as bad as it could get. Apparently, he was wrong. This time Death hadn't even entered the room before Pestilence knew something was up. A loud crash had come from outside which drew Pestilence out of his ever darkening thoughts of Amara and the terror they had created together. Curiously, Pestilence stood and peered outside his window to see an uncountable mass of monsters; vampires, werewolves, witches, shapeshifters, and any number of other creatures all pushing forwards, directly towards the door to the building Pestilence and his eldest brother were currently residing in. They were all shouting and banging against the door and for a moment Pestilence was completely frozen.

"We need to leave, right now"

Pestilence spun around to see Death standing right behind him. Before he could even ask what was happening, Death grabbed Pestilence's wrist and pulled him out the door. The younger brother flinched slightly at the increasing volume of the shouts and bangs from outside. But only once they got closer did Pestilence realise what they were saying.

"We know you're in there Pestilence. Come out and reverse what you've done to us"

"You shouldn't have the power to infect us! Who are you working with?"

"Death, you shouldn't protect someone who's so evil. Look what he's done to us all! Hand him over"

Pestilence stopped dead in his tracks, causing Death to momentarily lose his balance as he continued to hold onto his brother's arm. Slowly he looked over to see Pestilence staring at the door, his eyes wide and unmoving. Death gently tugged on his arm but he remained completely still. He was about to call out but Pestilence spoke first.

"They're here for me, aren't they?" His voice was so quiet that Death almost missed it. His brother turned to look at him and his heart leapt into his throat. Pestilence's face was dangerously pale, his eyes were blown wide and his lip gently quivered; he was terrified. Death stepped towards him and placed his hand on his shoulder. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, the door burst open with a shattering crash. The monsters flooded in and Death instinctively pushed his brother behind him.

"Don't take another step!" Death roared, his arms fanning out protectively in front of Pestilence's slightly shaking body.

"Make him reverse what he did to us and we'll consider a deal" the vampire near the front of the crowd hissed, leaning his body in towards them. Death knew there was nothing he could really do but he had to protect his brother no matter what. The group slowly began inching forwards but Death stood his ground. His brain worked overtime, desperately trying to think of a way to escape. Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a partly concealed door over to their right. If Death created a distraction, he and his brother would be able to make it through. Slowly he slipped one hand behind his back and subtlety signalled at Pestilence to tell him his plan. The gentle brush of their fingers touching let him know that he understood.

"Well, do we have a deal?" the vampire, who seemed to be the spokesperson for the group, tilted his head slightly. Death squared his shoulders and glared across the crowd.

"You will not touch him," he said in a lethally quiet voice and the entire crowd fell into complete silence.

"What are you going to do about it?" someone called out from the back of the group.

"You will all stay exactly where you are, you are going to let me and my brother go, and you will make no attempt to harm us or follow us" Death's voice radiated an odd sense of certainty and peace that briefly caught the entire crowd off guard. Then a ripple of laughter thundered through them. But Death was not phased; he stood firm.

"Or what?" one of the witches sniggered.

"This" Death said simply before sharply hitting his cane three times on the ground. A few moments of silence passed before shadows began appearing and surrounding the crowd. The shadows slowly formed into the shape of reapers; hundreds of them. Death knew they were essentially useless in the act of fighting but they would be enough for what he needed them for. The crowd started to draw in on itself as they all tried to get away from the motionless reapers, unsure of what their master had summoned them for. Death took his chance, grabbed Pestilence's wrist, and sprinted towards the hidden door he had spotted. They slipped through unnoticed and into the outside world.

"They won't keep them there for long" Pestilence muttered but Death was already leading him over to where he had hidden his car. Once he pulled the cover off, the two brothers quickly climbed inside.

"Will you tell me what you have done to them?" Death turned to his brother but there was no force in his voice. Pestilence cast his eyes down to his feet and Death sighed, not really expecting anything else. So, he turned on the gas and sped away from the place they had almost called home for two years just as three vampires and a werewolf burst out of the doors.


	7. Chapter 7

After countless hours of driving, Death and Pestilence had finally found somewhere they could hide. It was a small, underground bunker hidden out of sight. It seemed to be one of the many that had been abandoned by the Men Of Letters, which made it a perfect cover. None of the wardings were powerful enough to stop them since the Men Of Letters probably hadn't foreseen the rise of the Four Horsemen, so the two brothers entered with ease. Pestilence stared around the room in awe; books were stacked on floor to ceiling shelves and scrolls, and manuscripts lined the walls. Pretty much as soon as they entered the building, Pestilence had collapsed onto the couch and passed out from exhaustion. Surprisingly, Death was actually glad his brother was sleeping since it was something any of them rarely needed to do, but when they did need rest they were severely weakened until they got it. Death sat opposite him and allowed his mind to wonder. The place they had found refuge in appeared to be one of the smaller bunkers built by the Men Of Letters with only a main room, a kitchen, and two bedrooms, but it was enough for the two of them while they needed it. Truth be told, Death had no idea how long they would have to stay there. He knew if Pestilence just told him the truth, then everything could be resolved much faster. But he also knew there was no use in pushing his younger brother too hard. He would tell him in his own time but Death just hoped that would be sooner rather than later.

* * *

Pestilence's eyes slowly opened as the exhaustion cleared from his head. He blinked the world into focus and it took him a moment to realise where he was. Slowly, he sat up and cast his eyes about the room. It was an oddly magnificent place; so much knowledge packed into one spot with so much that Pestilence could learn and discover. Suddenly, his eyes caught hold of a slip of paper sat on the table in front of him. Leaning forwards, he picked it up and read the simple message.

 _Gone out to scout out what's around us. Be back soon._

 _~Death_

Pestilence briefly smiled to himself at the fact that his brother hadn't just woken him and actually wrote a note for him to allow him more rest. But that smile quickly faded as his mind drifted back to the previous day. Automatically, his hand slipped into his pocket to feel the crumpled parchment of the two summoning spells for Amara that he had managed to grab before Death dragged him out of the room. In all honesty, he had no idea what to do now. Yes, they were safe but how long would that last? Were his other brothers, War and Famine, okay? He knew trying to summon Amara and getting her to tell him what was going on would be completely useless and he couldn't very well just come out and tell Death everything. But Pestilence was yet again broken from his thoughts by his eldest brother. Death walked through the door and began heading towards him but Pestilence noticed there was something a little off about is aura- he seemed weaker, less dominant.

"Is anything wrong?" Pestilence ventured carefully once his brother came closer.

"I am fine," Death said shortly but his step wavered slightly and before either of them had a true grasp of the situation, Death's knees buckled and he collapsed back against the couch. Pestilence immediately rushed over to his side.

"What's wrong, brother? Are you hurt? Were you attacked? What happened?" Pestilence's eyes scanned over his brother's body, trying to find any signs of injury.

"I'm fine, really..." Death trailed off at the look Pestilence gave him before starting again "I didn't want to tell you"

"Tell me what?" Pestilence cocked his head slightly.

"It's your now famous illness... I have it"

Pestilence's body completely froze as those last words left his brothers lips. His mind refused to process it and his fingers began to tremble. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't. Humans' suffering was what he was made for, demons' and monsters' and even angels' suffering he could cope with... but the suffering of his own brother was something he could not even fathom. He dragged his eyes up to meet Death's and that was the moment he broke. He slumped forward and grasped Death's shirt.

"Please forgive me. I couldn't stop it. I didn't know it would come to this, please you must believe me. I never meant for any of this to happen" Pestilence's words fell from his mouth like a waterfall and Death was momentarily taken aback by the sudden change in his brother's nature. Quickly, he regained his sense and gently pulled Pestilence up to sit next to him.

"What happened?" Death finally said once Pestilence had stopped babbling. Pestilence told him everything; his idea, his want for respect, his contact with the Darkness (he was careful to refer to her as 'the Darkness' and 'it' rather than 'Amara' and 'she' to try and distance himself from her as much as possible), the argument that had transpired between them, how the Darkness had stolen everything and set his illness loose while warping its very nature. Death sat quietly and listened and once Pestilence was finished, he was shocked to see to not a single hint of anger in his eyes.

"I am truly sorry" Pestilence tried to turn away but Death pulled him back to face him.

"I understand. Don't worry, you have nothing to fear from me. While it was mostly definitely not the right thing to do, I do see why you chose to do it. Even if you did not know quite how much danger you were putting yourself in" Death said calmly, keeping their eyes fixed together.

"What should I do?" Pestilence whispered in such a quiet voice that Death would have missed it if he hadn't been right beside him.

"Have you tried calling upon the Darkness at all?"

"Yes, multiple times but it never works. I do everything perfectly but nothing happens" Pestilence said. Death looked thoughtful for a moment and Pestilence cast his eyes to the ground.

"I must search out our brothers. If I have this disease, then they may have it too. But do not worry Pestilence, we will all come through just fine" Death hastily added the last part as Pestilence's body tensed and his face paled at the thought of hurting not just one but all three of his brothers with his creation. Death stood steadily to his feet, almost appearing to be his usual self apart from the strained and tired look in his eyes. His hand gripped firmly onto Pestilence's shoulder, pulling him upwards to stand with him.

"You are the only one who can stop this madness. You must find a way before it's too late" Death looked Pestilence dead in the eye before giving his shoulder a final squeeze, turning, and walking back towards the door.

"How?" Pestilence called out just as Death's hand reached for the door knob.

"Look within yourself. You hold the key" Death did not look back as he opened to door, stepped outside, and shut it gently behind him. Leaving Pestilence to stare at the door, listening to Death's words echo around in his head.


	8. Chapter 8

Leather bound books littered the floor, scraps of parchment were thrown across the tables, and in the middle of it all sat Pestilence. As soon as Death had left him to find their brothers, Pestilence had sprung into action. Of all the knowledge stored in the small bunker, he was convinced there must be something hidden away that he could use to help him. So he pulled out every single piece of text he could and scanned them through, hoping for even a hint of help. But nearly fourteen hours later, he had not found anything even remotely useful to him. He sighed and threw down the book he was holding, pinching the bridge of his nose with the other hand. He knew he was running out of time but no matter what he did nothing seemed to give him any kind of answer. His mind constantly kept flicking back to what Death had told him before he left.

 _"Look within yourself. You hold the key"_

Pestilence was almost proud that his brother had so much faith in him but fearful that his faith had been terribly misplaced. How was _he_ purpose to find the answer? He was the Creator Of Disease, not a healer or curer. Humans seemed to be able to prevent and even exterminate at least some of the things he created but that took them years of research and testing and Pestilence was fully aware that he did not have that time to spare. It was far more likely that the answer he needed so desperately was tucked away in some dusty old manuscript rather than in himself. But just as he reached over to pull another book from the shelf, his mind suddenly thought of something. What if he had it all wrong? What if all he need to do was change his thinking around? He wasn't, and would never be, a curer of diseases. But everything that is created can be changed if not destroyed. Maybe that was what he needed to do. Despite their differences, every disease had a basic method and coding of creation. But if that method was performed in reverse...

Pestilence stood up so fast he stumbled on the books surrounding him and fell back into the chair sat by the desk next to him. A wave of energy surged through him and he immediately began gathering up everything he needed to create the base for a disease. His mind raced as fast as his body as he wondered how he had not thought of this solution before. He smiled slightly to himself and silently thanked Death wherever he was for that final push he had needed to realise what he had to do. Despite not being in his usual place of work, Pestilence still managed to collect together everything he needed. He knew it wouldn't quite be enough to change back what he had done but he hoped it would at the very least capture Amara's attention and force her to face him. Slowly he began the process, his senses on constant high alert. But the further along the course of reverse-creation he got, the less certain he was that Amara would make her expected appearance. His heart pounded in his chest as he clutched the final ingredient in his hand. His eyes flickered around him but he saw nothing. Gradually his fingers uncurled and the last ingredient fell into the bowl. A small puff of grey smoke burst from the bowl but nothing else happened. Pestilence sighed and ran his hands across his face. But then a storm of black smoke erupted from behind him, coupled with booming laughter.

"Did you really think something so simple would stop me?"

Pestilence spun on his heels to be faced with Amara, accompanied by her usual streams of smoke. Immediately his hands balled into fists by his sides at the sight of her confident smirk.

"What have you done?" Pestilence growled through gritted teeth but Amara noticed that he didn't dare take a step towards her.

"I did what you wanted" Amara shrugged nonchalantly.

"What I wanted? This was nothing like what I wanted. You're destroying the entire world! Please, just reverse what you have done"

"Ha! What _I've_ done? My dear Pestilence, this was all you. All I did was give you a means to an end"

"I asked you to help me!"

"You are the first face I have seen in aeons. You presented me with the means to get exactly what I wanted and you expect me to let you ruin it all? Have you seen how God made this place? It's so broken and weak. But you gave me the chance to erase it all, to start over. And I _will_ get what I want... I'll get what I DESERVE!"

Pestilence stumbled back at the power in her voice. He noticed the familiar curls of smoke pouring off her which indicted her anger towards him. Suddenly she stepped forward, almost out of her cloud of smoke and Pestilence's body completely froze. She had never done that before; she had always been trapped inside her mass of smoke and darkness.

"My power is growing" Amara smirked, answering Pestilence's silent question "Soon I will not need you. I will be free of my prison and I will have what I have always wanted. All thanks to you"

Her sweet smile was filled with malice. Pestilence tried to move back further but crashed into the bookcase behind him. He had no idea what to do. The only way the current situation could be made worse would be Amara's release, so Pestilence knew he had to stop her but he just didn't know how. But then Death's words appeared in his head and a spark was lit. Slowly the spark grew into an idea which in turn became a crude form of a plan. It was practically suicide and he wasn't certain it would even work, but he had no choice but to try. He took a slow breath, steadied himself on his feet, dragged his eyes away from Amara and stepped around the chair towards the box of ingredients that he had kept hidden under the table. Reversing the disease itself wouldn't be enough, he had to get rid of the source; he had to send Amara back by reversing the summoning spell. Amara cocked her head slightly in curiousity at what he was doing. But as soon as she realised where his plan was going, she lunged forwards. Pestilence flinched but continued his work as her nails barely missed his face.

"Stop it! I command you to stop at once!" Amara wailed, frustrated with the invisible chain that prevented her from leaving her cage of blackness. A great gust of wind blew past Pestilence, sending the papers around him up into the air but his eyes did not move from the bowl as he poured in each ingredient. The chair behind him shattered against the wall, the lights above him burst, and Amara's screams grew louder and louder. He heard the creek of wood behind him and only just had time to grab the bowl into his arms and dive out of the way before the bookcase tipped over and smashed against the table. Finally, Pestilence put the bowl down on the floor, lit the match in his hand and threw it into the collection of ingredients, completing the spell. A burning bright light burst from the bowl and Pestilence tripped back, trying to shield his eyes. Amara let out a shattering scream and Pestilence felt himself be thrown backwards. His body slammed into the brick wall behind him, causing the Horseman's head to spin. Blood was rushing in his ears as his vision blurred. He could vaguely hear Amara's final, desperate scream before he slumped down and lost all consciousness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Here it is, the last page. Thank you yet again to the wonderful PrawnNetwork for this absolutely brilliant prompt! I hope you have enjoyed reading what I have made from it.**

Pestilence blinked his eyes a few times before everything came into focus. He was lying across the couch in the place himself and Death had lived in before being chased out by monsters just a couple of days previous. Suddenly everything that had happened came back into his memory and his body shot upright, causing his head to spin.

"Be careful, lay still" Death instructed as he caught him by the arm and pushed him gently back down.

"What happened?" Pestilence asked, recalling when his memory of Amara had cut out.

"That's what we wanted to ask you"

Pestilence's head whipped around to see War and Famine approaching him with oddly soft expressions on their faces. Despite himself, Pestilence smiled at the sight of his brothers. But then something occurred to him that made him slowly smile even wider.

"Wait, are you all okay now? Has the disease gone?"

"Yes," Death answered with a smile.

"You did it, Pestilence. You saved us all" War clapped his youngest brother on the shoulder and Pestilence felt the relief wash over him. He had done it; he finally sent the Darkness back where she belonged and where she should have been this whole time.

"I'm sor-"

"If you're going to apologise, don't. Yes, you screwed up but you fixed everything too. You made yourself a hero" War butted in before Pestilence could finish his sentence.

"Plus, we call mess up sometimes. Like when War started those World Wars"

"Hey, that wasn't my fault. Well okay it was, but-"

Pestilence held back a laugh as War and Famine began to bicker. Death rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to Pestilence.

"They're right you know" Death said, causing Pestilence to turn his head and raise a questioning eyebrow.

"Despite what you may have done, you had the strength to carry yourself through and fix the mistakes you made. You saved us... you saved the world"

Pestilence blinked in shock at his brother's words and slowly, as they sank into his mind, he began to realise that they were true. After everything he had done, he had managed to stop it all before it was too late. He had saved the entire world from both Amara and himself. But most of all, he knew he was forgiven for it. He had seen something in Death's eyes- it was something _almost_ akin to pride.

Pestilence turned to say something to his eldest brother but stopped himself when he was faced with a blank space of air instead. His eyes gently flicked upwards to see his three brothers standing in their usual stance; Famine and War bickering with Death between them trying- and mostly failing- to get them to stop. Pestilence couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. He was certain that eventually something would spark between them that would force them to all take their own separate paths yet again. But as Pestilence stood and walked over to his brothers, he knew that despite everything he had done and all that had happened, they would always be a family. No matter what.


End file.
